Delande: Fake rappers lyin, Tombs come help, hip-hop is dying! All we want in return is fake rappers to learn, and we yearn, for a better future, we the hip-hop saviors, fuck the misbehaviors, I put em in they place, generation's a disgrace. These flows plain, I put em in they lane, If we can go back in time, to save biggie and tupac. These secrets we've unlocked

Johnny Tombs: I'd grab Big L & Big Pun, we'd be the sons of the chosen ones

Delande: Fake MCs, they know I can see those, Tombs ischanging the game like a cheat code

Johnny Tombs: Word n***a, Delande lemme correct you I know these rappers upset you, their shit ain't hip hop, these rappers just flip flop and crip walk like Kriss Kross, make your skeleton jump out your bones, leave your carcus at home, get this shit through ya dome Hip hop is dying and we the saviors I'm doing you a favor and giving you a dish with some flavor these rhymes you can't savor, I'm gonna save ya. These n***as craving a new dish but eat the junk food, its ight cause I'm in a good mood and mess up once in a blue moon. That track was wack but still got on the map and claimed to be rap the flow was ass. It ain't add up like math flow so cold left you no clothes, exposed. Song was catchy, got that recognition over nada, the rhymes designer, Gucci & Prada. Ya flow like fubu, looking for that new you, you jockin rapper's new tune. Can't find the true you, see what you got into. Hop off our property nobody's stopping me, hop off our property game of monopoly we just tryna fullfill the prophecy

Yeah, It's The Enlightenment